


Eggs and Roosters and Cows, Oh My!

by merwinist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Childbirth, Couples' costumes, Draco is pregnant, Dralloween, Drarry, F/M, Fluff, Halloween, Halloween Costumes, Hermione Granger is a Good Friend, Hermione and Draco have bonded over their husbands, Hermione is always prepared, M/M, Mpreg, and a little bit of emotional hurt/comfort, halloween party, this is honestly so much
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-26
Updated: 2019-05-26
Packaged: 2020-03-19 21:14:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18978469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merwinist/pseuds/merwinist
Summary: Sometimes life isn’t what we expected it to be, and it doesn’t do what we expect it to. Harry Potter should know that by now.





	Eggs and Roosters and Cows, Oh My!

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally written for Dralloween 2016, hosted by ourloveislegendrarry on Tumblr!

“You want me to dress up as a what?!” shrieked Draco.

“A fried egg,” Harry said as though it was the most reasonable suggestion in the world. “And I’ll go as a rasher of bacon or a sausage link. Babe, it’ll be hilarious.”

“For you,” wailed Draco, arms tucked protectively around his distended stomach. “All of our friends will laugh at me standing next to a gigantic sausage! It’s not like I haven’t heard enough jokes about your magical cock in the last eight months – oh no, you want to add fuel to the fire! I won’t do it! I’ll go into labor before I go to your stupid party dressed like a bloody egg!”

Harry held up his hands, eyes wide as he struggled to hold in his laughter. “Draco, it’s fine if you don’t want to dress up as an egg. Totally fine. Calm down, love.” He didn’t succeed in keeping all of his amusement out of his voice, but luckily Draco stopped wailing.

Instead, he turned sulky. “I should just dress up as a cow. I know that’s what you all think I look like right now anyway. Or one of Loony’s blimp plum things. Or a whale.” His fingers unconsciously scratched at his stomach and his face was screwed up in an unhappy, exhausted moue of displeasure.

Harry, with a sudden wave of compassion, didn’t say anything about Draco’s derogatory use of Luna’s old school nickname; instead, he stepped forward to pull his husband of three years into his arms. Nuzzling Draco’s hair and tugging away his hands so he could gently rub at the irritated stretch marks, Harry murmured, “I don’t think you’re any of those things. I think you’re gorgeous and incredible and very strong. And I think you need a warm bath, a back rub, and quite possibly a foot rub as well.”

Draco’s ankles had been swelling lately. It made walking difficult – so much so that he had taken to riding one of the flying carpets his great-grandfather had imported to get around when they were alone at the Manor. After all, Harry wasn’t going to report him to the Department of Magical Transportation, and as long as he didn’t take it out and about, no one else had to know

Deciding to allow Harry to pacify him with his offer, Draco nodded into his lover’s chest and whined a little. “Yes, please.”

“Alright, then, let’s get you upstairs,” he responded, herding them both up the sweeping staircase that led to their private wing of the Manor.

“We still haven’t decided what we’re going as,” Draco grumbled, moving slowly. Steps were getting more and more daunting with each passing week of this thrice-damned pregnancy. “The party is next week. Magic or not, we’ll need some time to prepare and acquire whatever we decide upon.”

Harry’s response was decidedly sentimental and sappy. “Draco, if you would let me, I’d paint a globe on your tum and stop there. You and that little girl are my whole world, after all.”

He cheered internally as the back of Draco’s neck and ears flushed a delicate pink. “You’re such a romantic sod,” he sighed, managing to sound both embarrassed and pleased to equal degrees. “I hate you.”

“I love you, too,” Harry chuckled. “Now shut up and get that cute arse upsairs.”

The bath ended up being quite crowded, and Draco’s massage was much more of a full body experience than he had planned. Not that he was complaining.

———

By the time the party rolled around. Draco was sick and tired of thinking about just how big he was, and they didn’t dress up as anything. Instead, they bought an expensive bottle of liquor that Draco couldn’t drink and Harry wouldn’t. Draco insisted that even if it was Granger hosting the party - and even if she couldn’t drink either - that was no excuse to be an ungracious guest.

Harry had stopped correcting Draco about Hermione’s last name six months ago, when he’d found out it was actually some inside joke of theirs. Apparently the agonies of being pregnant at the same time had given them enough common ground to bond over, although Draco was two months further along than Hermione.

Hermione, who opened the door wearing a cow costume - complete with pink belly and udders - and looking thoroughly fed up with everyone and everything. She gave Harry a tired, tight smile before latching onto Draco’s wrist. “If you don’t stick by my side tonight, Harry will have to arrest me for murdering my husband. He refused to let go of the idea of a bump-themed couples costume, and now look what I’m stuck wearing!”

Draco threw a triumphant smirk over his shoulder at Harry as Hermione dragged him further into the house, her voice getting quieter, but he heard enough to shake his head and roll his eyes at Draco’s exclamation of, “– a bloody egg, I ask you!”

Still smiling at his husband’s antics, Harry stepped into the house, tucking the bottle under his arm as he pulled the door shut behind him. The rest of their friends wouldn’t start showing up for another half an hour – it was tradition at parties like this for the old Trio to get together a bit early and catch up, since they all had such busy lives, though it seemed Hermione really was planning on avoiding Ron until more people showed up.

“Ron?” he called, even though he had a good idea of where his best mate would be.

“In here, mate!” came the reply from the sitting room. As per usual, Ron was “taste testing” the snacks – to ensure they were suitable for guest consumption, of course.

Harry laughed as he caught sight of Ron’s costume, stepping forward to set the bottle of cognac on the drink table. “A rooster, Ron, really? We all know how cocky you are already.”

The reply, garbled around a mouthful of crisps, sounded a bit disgruntled. “Mione said if she had to be a barnyard animal, so did I. I was going to be the farmer. Anyway, you’re not even wearing a costume!”

“That’s because when my heavily pregnant and highly hormonal partner was upset by all of my suggestions, or even the idea of dressing up at all, I had the good sense to drop the subject,” was the droll reply. Harry liked his bits attached and in working order, thanks very much.

“Whatever,” grunted Ron. “Just means you lot don’t get any candy for participating, mate.”

Harry snorted. “I would really like to see you try to keep Draco from the chocolate. Just, please, give me enough time to put up a Shield Charm first – Draco’s magic has been acting up this last week. Who knows what might happen?”

Knowing he’d lost the argument, Ron just rolled his eyes and went back to taste testing.

———

As the rest of the guests started arriving, Harry stood by Draco’s side, rubbing the rippling skin of his stomach with gentle concern. He’d been quiet since sneaking off with Hermione, and when Harry had asked why he’d gotten a terse, “Braxton Hicks.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to go to St. Mungo’s, Dray?” he asked now for the fifth time. He was worried about how pale Draco had become, and it showed in his rare use of their private nickname; Harry knew what his lover’s pain tolerance was, and the puckered skin around his eye proved he was hurting a lot more than the last few times he’d gotten Braxton Hicks contractions.

Before Draco could reply, the doorbell rang; Hermione opened it to show a grinning Neville and Hannah Longbottom, both of whom simultaneously cheered, “Trick or treat!” They were dressed as Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum from the Alice in Wonderland movie Hermione had introduced them to – needless to say, Disney had become a staple on Group Movie Night. The sad thing was that this was not the strangest costume they had worn over the years.

Next was Theo Nott and one of the Greengrass twins (he had a tendency to switch between Daphne and Astoria when he got bored, and for some reason they let him), dressed as some sort of risque Healer/Medi-Witch duo – and here Harry had thought the medical kink was a strictly Muggle thing.

Ginny was accompanied by the dark-skinned Blaise Zabini and a toy broom. As she passed Harry, she winked and cheekily whispered, “Blaise has a Snitch painted somewhere very interesting. I get to Seek it out later.” That was more than he cared to know, period.

Neither of the twins could make it, with Halloween being one of their joke shop’s busiest nights, but they’d sent their apologies with a box of Halloween themed fireworks. No one was too surprised or disappointed, as the twins rarely made it to this annual party, but they’d promised to try to drop in a bit later, once custom had slowed down – knowing Fred and George, they probably meant it literally and they'd come down the Floor as ginger Santas..

As Luna and her girlfriend Pansy (and hadn’t that shocked everyone except Draco, who’d been supremely smug as Theo handed him five Galleons) stepped through the door wearing some sort of odd orange contraptions on their heads, Draco let out a small whine and hunched over, staring disbelievingly as the fabric between his legs darkened wetly.

“Oh gods,” Harry panicked, catching on quick. “Oh gods, no. We don’t have the bag, we aren’t prepared, you aren’t due for another two weeks! Oh gods!”

Luckily, Hermione was far more level headed than the rest of the assembled group of friends, and she had grown out of her tendency for mindless panic sometime after third year. She snapped into action quickly, Summoning her trusty beaded purse with a practiced flick of her wand as she gently gripped both Harry and Draco by the biceps.

“Come on, now, into the Floo,” she said, chivvying them in front of the fireplace. “It’s going to be fine. Draco, breathe. Harry, stop talking. Everyone else, enjoy the food! Ron, don’t forget to hand out candy to the trick or treaters – I’ll know if you eat it all.” With a wave farewell, she activated the Floo, and the room full of astonished friends burst into loud chatter as they tried to decide who would go wait at St. Mungo’s and who would stay to pass out candy.

———

Two hours later, Draco was clutching Harry’s hand and babbling. “I was trying to hold her in – I know you don’t like Halloween really – it hurts so much oh sweet Merlin WHERE IS MY PAIN ELIXIR?!”

For his part, Harry had managed to stop hyperventilating an hour ago, and now he was just smoothing Draco’s hair back from his sweaty forehead when it fell forward and allowing his hand to be pulverized. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. Just breathe,” he cooed. Then he caught what Draco had let slip and looked vaguely pole-axed before smiling gently and pressing a light kiss to Draco’s lips. “Draco, love, if she’s ready to come into the world tonight, that’s what she’ll do. Besides, I think it might actually be nice – having something to celebrate instead of feeling like I should be mourning every year from now till the end of time.” Harry wasn’t usually so emotional, but hell, his daughter was on her way!

“I’m scared,” Draco whimpered, clenching his hand tighter around Harry’s. “Harry, I’m scared and it hurts and I don’t want to be like my father.”

“Shhh,” murmured Harry, crawling into the bed to brace Draco with his own body. “Love, you are the exact opposite of your father in so many ways that I can’t even begin to list them. I’ve known that since we first started decorating the nursery and you refused to allow the elves to do anything.” He rubbed Draco’s lower back, although the angle was awkward and didn’t allow him to put very much pressure into it. “You’re going to be amazing. Our daughter is going to know how loved she is from her very first breath. We can do this, I promise you.”

As Draco was seized by harsher and harsher contractions the conversation became rather one-sided, but Harry kept up his litany of reassurances. This experience was teaching him just how endless his love for Draco truly was – and how much adoration he already had for the baby currently fighting her way into the world. The emotions swelled up inside him, making his heart feel three sizes too big for his rib cage, warming him as he held Draco through the roughest parts of the labor.

———

At 11:55 on Halloween Night, Lyra Lily Malfoy thrust her way into the world. She took one look at the people gathered around, blinked, and began to wail and shriek. Loudly. When the Healer placed her in Draco’s arms, she instantly quieted, letting out one last grumpy snuffle before her tiny eyelids drooped closed over emerald bright eyes.

As Harry watched over the dozing pair with a small smile, he absentmindedly brought his hand up to the lightning scar on his forehead.

“I love you both so much.”

The scar had not pained Harry for seven years. All was well.

**Author's Note:**

> I will always be in the Harry Potter fandom, but my Tumblr url has changed A LOT over the years to reflect my newest fandom craze. 
> 
> Right now you can find me at queerjonmund because the only good thing to come out of GOT's 8th season was that final scene with Jon and Tormund 😭


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